


The Forgotten

by Symphonic_Deception



Category: Original Work
Genre: Afanas Mephistopheles - Freeform, Gen, Ghosts, Herman Wilhelm - Freeform, Lord, Medieval, One Shot, Original Character(s), Runaway, Short Story, Spirit of a murderer, Tragedy, noble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 23:56:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9210815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Symphonic_Deception/pseuds/Symphonic_Deception
Summary: To this universe, most lives are simply insignificant specks in a corner of the earth, gone in a moment. Death is normal. Why are you alive? Because someone wanted you? Who wanted you? What is your reason for living?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Afanas Mephistopheles: 47 years old - Born 1238 – Died 1285  
> Herman Wilhelm: 11 years old – Born 1989

 

          Tall trees reached for the grey clouds that poured cold rain upon them. A boy no older than eleven ran through the brush and fallen branches. His face showing lack of proper nourishment for some time, and the simple clothes he wore were thin and drenched. All he carried was an olive drab rucksack with a change of clothes, a novel titled “No Longer Human”, his wallet, and the only picture he had of his mother with a genuine smile on her face. That picture was the only time he had seen his mother without a judgmental scowl. Four days without food, his only source for water was the rain and occasional puddle.            

          He would open his wallet just to look at the name on his ID card, to remember who he was, Herman Wilhelm – Born 1989. Herman had walked through this seemingly endless forest for weeks. The only life he came upon were the indigenous creatures.  

          It was raining much harder now. All of the animals were scattering for shelter inside the trees and underground, but no space was large enough for Herman. Looking for shelter, he came upon the ruins of an old and forgotten stone castle, with a rotting wooden draw bridge leading to a rusted iron gate. Herman was able to take shelter within one of the towers. The small tower room looked like a place to keep someone safe, or prisoner, from the outside world. He set down his things and sat, knees pulled close. He slept.

          In the middle of the night he heard a quiet hum. As it became louder he woke and quickly got to his feet. Herman hastily reached for his bag, losing his grip, it tumbled down the stairs making loud thump noises. The humming suddenly stopped and he could hear the clacking of shoes against the stone floor. Herman began to panic. If someone found him, they might take him back to the place he had run from. Herman hid behind a large mound of rubble and pulled a knife out of his pocket. The footsteps stopped halfway up the stairs. Then he heard what seemed like someone rummaging through his rucksack. Herman peeked around the ruble, but saw no one. He looked around nervously before retrieving his belongings.

          In the distance he heard an organ. The sound was deep and slow, each note flowed. Herman followed the vibration which was now accompanied by violins playing a soft melody. The keep at the center of the castle looked like it had seen many years of conflict pass. Herman could hear the music coming from behind the door, but when he looked around the crumbling wall, he saw only the remains of the once great castle. “Am I going mad?”

          Herman took a deep breath and opened the wooden door. He could now hear the entire orchestra build its crescendo. Beyond the door was a grand ballroom, accented in gold leaf and crystal. Statues of pure gold stood proudly along the walls near the arched windows, high as the ceilings of hallowed art. Men in embroidered coats danced with women in gowns and scarlet furs on their sleeves, the hems and neck of their dresses decorated with gems and lace. Every one of them wore masks concealing all but their eyes. Herman glanced back to see the broken remains of the castle just outside the door. “This is not possible,” his bag fell to the floor.

          The scene was infatuating. The entire ballroom was full of life and color,  long mirrors reflected the two story windows. A great number of paintings lined the walls, portraits of nobles, kings, and battles. Outside lay an expansive garden with a river beyond it. As Herman walked, the people didn’t seem to detect his presence. When he reached out to touch a man’s shoulder his hand went through the dancer, his shoulder turning to mist and then becoming whole once again. Herman noticed a lone figure at the very back of the ballroom. The man was dressed in black. A shirt with frilly cuffs, a thick overcoat, and knee high socks with laced shoes. The raven haired man then locked his stare with Herman’s and soon left through the marble archway and up the wooden steps that were draped in red carpeting. The moment the man was out of sight all of the dancers vanished and the chandeliers were blown out. It was quiet, the only light was from the moon that shown through the windows.

          Herman ran up the steps and through the corridor. Looking out one of the windows Herman could see the rest of the wing, it was not ruble as seen from outside, but a magnificent stone structure with a moat and lush green forest concealing the entire estate from the world.

          Descending a spiral staircase lit by torches, he came upon dark room with many pillars holding up a vaulted ceiling. The setting was very different from the ballroom. It was dim and lonely, with a desaturated scheme. A black silhouette shifted through the darkness and Herman followed it deeper into the depths of the castle. “Wait!” He yelled at the figure.

          The dungeons were dark and damp. He heard voices and the muffled cries of men and women seemingly enduring great pain. The stench of blood and rotting flesh made him cringe. _I need to get out of here_ , he thought. Herman ascended the stairs and continued through the ballroom, grabbing his bag with haste as he practically kicked down the old wooden door. The door closed and his pace slowed when he saw the decaying castle. He stopped at the end of the drawbridge and looked back at the castle. It looked as it did when he first saw it. Herman shook his head and smiled. Then he headed for the forest.

          The ballroom again. Herman stood stunned. “What?” He glanced around and saw the raven haired man standing silently before him.

          “You poor child,” the man’s voice was devoid of emotion.

          “W-Who are you,” asked Herman.

          “Who am I,” the man took a moment to recall, “Afanas Von Mephistopheles…?” He seemed surprised at his own name.

          As Afanas was distracted by his thoughts, Herman began to slowly back away. “Tell me child, what is the year?”

          Herman froze when Afanas took a step toward him. “It…is the year 2000.” 

          “My, has it been that long? Time seems so stagnate here.”

          Herman quickly turned and ran back over the drawbridge, not knowing that Afanas had simply watched him leave with a sorrowful expression. When Herman tried to leave, he simply appeared within the ballroom once again.

          “Why are you doing this to me?!” Herman shouted at the man and pulled out his knife.

          Afanas slowly sighed. “I have asked that very question many times.”

          “I don’t understand, what is this?!”

          “This room, and the rest of the things you may see, they are nothing more than memories of what once was. My life, as it were.”

          “And you’ve condemned me to this place?”

          Afanas closed his eyes. “No, 'twas not I, but I do not mind the company, even if the feeling is not mutual. It has been so very long.”

          When Herman blinked, the ballroom was suddenly rubble and overgrown. “What kind of creature are you,” Herman said with caution.

          “I suppose I am a sort of apparition.”

          “Then you died here?”

          “Indeed. Now I suspect my remains, along with the bodies of those you saw in the ballroom, are long gone. All that is left are these ruins.”

          “Is there no one else trapped here?”

          Afanas was silent for a long period of time before he began to walk, motioning for Herman to follow. Afanas led Herman to the tower that he had taken shelter in. A vile smell emanated. “What is that stench,” Herman covered his mouth and nose.

          When they got to the top of the steps Herman’s thoughts went blank. The stench had been coming from a rotting corpse, _Herman’s_ corpse. He stared down at his decomposing flesh that was being swarmed by flies and eaten by maggots. Herman dropped to his knees. “So I am the same as you,” Herman turned to Afanas. “I can never leave this place.”

         

Fin

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading.


End file.
